are you running from something
by blairswaldorfs
Summary: he doesn't groan when she takes him to museums or when she eats ice cream. carterjenny.


**are you running from something?**  
_jennycarter_  
—

He's sitting at a bar, in a worn down tuxedo and a glass of scotch in one hand. Hudson doesn't have very many bars, and rarely any men come in looking like they've stepped out of high society New York. Friends giggle, slyly pointing at the handsome man _drinking away his troubles_, a friend giggles. Jenny rolls her eyes as the group decides to approach him

"Hi," Cynthia taps him on the shoulder, a plait hanging down over her shoulder and a smooth grin plastered on her face. Carter shuts his eyes for a second, fixes his crooked bowtie and plants a kiss on Cynthia's hand.

"Hi beautiful." Jenny rolls her eyes, the other girls giggle and Cynthia blushes as she takes the seat next to him. Vaguely introducing herself and the group of girls.

"You— you look familiar," Carter points at Jenny, a frown on his face. He's seen her before, but can't put a name to a face. Seen her somewhere, somewhere—

"Jenny Humphrey." She states, but it's not like she used to introduce herself: Shy and meek, _just a girl from Brooklyn_ or strong and confident, _the first Queen from Brooklyn_. She's sure of herself now, she's Jenny Humphrey. Once she dealt drugs, and stole from her friends. Partied with the elite and ruled over them, too. Her brother is Dan Humphrey, did date Serena van der Woodsen for a time and is currently engaged to Blair Waldorf. But she? She's Jenny Humphrey.

Carter grins, a shit eating grin that tells a thousand secrets and hides a billion more. "I remember you," he says slowly, pushing more scotch down his throat. Fixes his bowtie again. Gets up, waves goodbye but doesn't leave until he's kissed Jenny's drink and slid a card into her hand.

_Call me_, he whispers before returning to wherever he came from. Jenny scrunches it up and throws it in the nearest bin. She's done with boys who mean nothing but trouble. And Carter Baizen is _trouble_.

—

It's but a month later when there's an emergency at Dan's, and she comes rushing to the Upper East. Where money is thrown around and the latest scandal will hit a gossip site.

"I think Blair's gonna call it off," Dan nervously says, pacing back and forth down the apartment. Jenny laughs, _that's the emergency?_ At first she had her doubts about the relationship. Remembering yogurt and names, she had refused to talk to Dan for a week. But after seeing them together, her doubts had washed away.

"There's no way she's calling it off, Dan." His body relaxes in an instant. Jenny sounds so _sure_, like she can predict the future and knows it for a fact— Dan accepts to believe her, because all he ever wanted was just a conformation from someone aside from himself.

Blair comes home with Chinese, a scrunch on her nose, and Carter Baizen on her arm. She complains about buying it, claims that it's nothing but trash and eats it as she cuddles with Dan, (and Jenny pretends not to see).

"You never called," Carter points out, watching Jenny serve herself Chinese. Jenny lets out an incredulous laugh,

"You thought I would?"

—

He takes her out to a bar, in the heart of New York. They sip cocktails and she listens to him talk about his various travels. She dishes out her stories about university and fashion and the bores of Hudson but the joys of London. He laughs at her jokes, and looks at her in a way that she's only ever seen Dan look at girls before, (Serena, Blair) but has never witnessed in regards to herself.

Carter kisses her at the end of the night, a light peck against the lip and his number saved in her phone.

"Call me," He whispers and she's sure she will.

—

Carter flies out to visit her in London, her heart skipping a beat and Eric telling her to be careful.

But— okay, Jenny has had her heart broken before. By different people, a million different times. Carter has broken hearts before, she's heard the stories of the Buckley's and saw Serena's heart ripped in two.

But—

(there's always a but, isn't there?).

He makes her laugh and smile, like she hasn't in years. Makes her heart explode with joy at the tiniest look or the silliest statement. And while they're nothing more than _friends_, there's this hope for something more rooted deep in her stomach.

(Friends is fine for now, though. Friends would be fine for forever).

—

He doesn't groan when she takes him to museums or when she eats ice cream while trying to balance her bag and walk in heels across cobbled sidewalks with frantic children running past.

"Let's do something you wanna do," Jenny tells him, smiling with dimples in her cheeks. Carter steps closer towards her, and her heart skips a beat for a second, because is he going to kiss her? Moments like these only happen in movies—

"A bar crawl?" He whispers in her ear. She laughs so hard that ice cream flies out of her mouth, a hand flying up to cover her red lips, before she topples over backwards and falls onto the ground. Her favourite skirt rips, frowning he helps her up. Carter laughs, gripping onto her hand tightly as she steadies herself.

"_Fuck_," Jenny mutters in disdain, she's almost ready to stomp her feet against the ground like an angry two year old.

"I'll buy you a new one." Carter states casually, hooking his arm through hers. Cheeks flame up red, because _no, he will not_. Just because he can spend money by throwing it around, doesn't mean he'll throw it around on her. Flustered, she shakes her head before walking towards her apartment complex.

Carter doesn't follow her, even though she expects him to.

—

(She cries that night that he doesn't follow her back).

(She cries because he doesn't call).

(Cries because she hears through the grapevine he's hooking up with Serena).

—

"Easy, Little J." Nate laughs, watching her stumble a little across the grass after she's kicked the soccer ball. Jenny rolls her eyes, waving her hand in that _stop _motion.

"I know how to play football!" She calls back as Nate kicks the ball back her way. Her foot darts out, kicking it back towards him so hard that her foot aches.

"Football, huh? London's changed you!" Nate calls back jokingly. An easy smile relaxes onto her face. Summer is nice, the sun is shining, the sky is blue and the grass is green and she's playing a game of Soccer Football, (whatever you want to call it), with Nate Archibald.

He falls over, tumbling backwards into the grass. It stains his pants. Jenny laughs, "Easy, Nate Archibald." Echoing his earlier statement.

"Shut up, Jenny Humphrey." He replies, dusting himself off.

—

"You still love Serena?" Jenny asks, watching Nate watch Serena dive into the pool. Carter's around somewhere, a beer in his hand as he watches Serena, too.

Nate grins, a light blush spreads across his cheeks, a hand is placed against his neck as he looks down at the ground.

"That obvious, huh?" Nate asks lightly. Jenny nods her head sadly, because _yeah_. Nate shrugs his shoulders, mumbling something about Serena being happy is all that he wants while winding their hands together.

"Still love Carter?" Nate laughs. Jenny rolls her eyes, flabbergasted at the idea.

(okay, yeah, maybe it's true—)

"What?" She nearly spits out her drink. Nate shakes his head, _doesn't matter_.

—

"Do you take Blair Waldorf to be your wife?" Dan says yes. Serena looks like she's about to cry. Jenny does cry.

—

Carter slides up towards her while she's alone, seated amongst a bunch of empty chairs while sipping on Champagne. Their Spring wedding had been moved to Summer, and Blair had nearly gone insane—

"Haven't seen you around, beautiful." The words feel wrong coming from his mouth, but Jenny smiles and shrugs and says:

"Same goes for you." His fingers brush against her hand, like he's painting a pattern on her skin. Really, she should pull her hand away. She loves Serena dearly— but she keeps her hand there, where Carter paints pictures with his fingers.

Just wishes they were being painted somewhere else.

—

Typical, isn't it. To hook up with somebody while at a wedding. Clichè, and maybe that's always (never) been Jenny's style. Always different (but the same).

Carter kisses her, light. Another friendly peck, something to end the night with. Serena and him are done, he told her as his eyes fluttered over towards where his former girlfriend and Nate Archibald were swaying in a corner.

Jenny kisses back, this time. Forcefully. It's their first kiss, and yeah, she's slightly tipsy and the dress is becoming uncomfortable and her feet are sore from dancing in heels all night long.

It's not the prettiest kiss anyone's ever seen, it's kind of sloppy and gross and messy but it's kind of magical, to her.

—

Nate and Serena break up, if they were ever together in the first place.

Serena and Carter get back together.

Jenny is sick of being the last to hear the news, and is sick of living in a world that mirrors high school. New York is great, but she's already missing London, so she catches the first flight back home.

—

She dates Nate for a bit, nothing ever too serious. Not for her, at least. His heart still belongs to Serena, anyway. And Jenny? She's sick of falling in love with people who don't love her back.

She deserves the world and more.

She deserves everything.

Nate is a good distraction, though. Until the right thing comes along. Two friends who enjoy kissing in their spare time, and ripping clothes off when they're bored.

—

But one day Nate tells her he loves her. He ruins everything.

(And Jenny flees).

—

"Carter?" Jenny asks curiously, smiling as she approaches him. Carter spins around, smirking at her.

"Hi, beautiful."

(_and do you just call all your girls that?_).

—

Years later, Carter wraps his body around Jenny's as she sobs, clutching her stomach tightly. Because, all she really wants now is a family. She has everything else she could ever want.

"Are you running from something?" Carter asks, his voice breaking as he kisses her shoulder. Jenny hiccups, not knowing what he means by it.

* * *

_a/n: _this is my one hundredth fic. woah. it got messy towards the middle.


End file.
